The Demon Within
by Steven Moffat
Summary: Will John and Sherlock survive their stay in Kansas?
1. Chapter 1

"I hate Kansas." Sherlock said to John as they got off the plane.  
"You haven't seen anything yet." John sighed, "Give it a day."  
"Its sunny I'd choose rain to sunshine any day." Sherlock rolled his eyes, and shouldered john's laptop. "Who's our client? I want to get this case over with as soon as-" he ran into a man taller than he was, almost falling into John. "What the hell?" He cried as he straightened himself, brushing off his coat.  
"Move it ass." The man said, and passed him, shouldering John.  
"Pardon." John grabbed the man's sleeve, "you wouldn't happen to be John Winchester, would you?"  
The man froze, and spun to face them. "Are you the English detectives?" He asked slowly.  
"That would be us." John said and Sherlock just stayed silent. "Sherlock." John slowed him, "say something."  
Sherlock backed up. "No, no, it's not right. Something's not right."  
John straightened, heaving a sigh, giving Sherlock a face. "Sherlock, we've just met our client. Behave."  
John Winchester shifted on his feet, his face defiant. "Something wrong boy?"  
"You shouldn't be here. This isn't right." Sherlock grabbed on to john's wrist, pulling him back. "We have to go."  
"Sherlock, stop being rude!" John yanked his hand from Sherlock, and walked back up to John Winchester. "I apologize. I don' what's gotten into Sherlock-"  
"John, stop where you are." Sherlock said sternly. "Don't take another step, and DON'T touch him."  
"I've had it up to here with your bloody nonsense." John put a hand of the winchester's shoulder. "Lets go to a pub and we can talk-" the next moment the two john's were gone.  
Sherlock blinked, not believing his eyes. One moment John was deffying everything he was saying and the next moment the two were gone. Sherlock ran over to a flight attendant. "Have you seen a man about 5' 5" with blonde hair?" The woman shook her head, and Sherlock rushed back to where he last saw John, freezing at the sight of john's olive jacket.  
He cautiously stepped to it, and grabbed it, lifting it to his nose, and smelling a slight stench of sulfur. "JOHN!" He yelled, spinning around, looking everywhere. "JOHN HAMISH WATSON." He called, running out of the airport, his only bag was john's laptop. John had the duffle full of their close, and all Sherlock had of john's was his jacket. "JOHN WATSON!" He yelled in front of the airport, and started to run, the bag and jacket in hand.  
Sherlock turned the corner, and ran into two men wearing way too many layers that was good for them.  
Sherlock fell back, and the teller one of the two men rushed Sherlock, a knife in his hand. After the man saw who it was he gave a deep sigh, "it's only a man. Nothing important."  
Sherlock narrowed hos eyes, and slowly stood up. "Nothing important? I have more importance in my thumb that both of you have in your whole being, hunters."  
"Someone should take it down on the ego statis-" the shorter of the men froze, "wait, did you just say' hunters'?"  
"Are you hard of hearing?" Sherlock said, his patience wearing thin, "yes." He pushed the men out of his way, and picked up john's jacket. "Move, I need to find my friend." He started to walk away, but the shorter of the men grabbed Sherlock by the collar. Pissed, Sherlock flipped the man, and ducked at the fist that was coming from his right, and swung at the taller of the two men, getting him the jaw, and swiping his feet from under him, sending the man falling like a tree. Sherlock stood up, and ripped up his collar. "I said, move." The taller of the men moaned in pain, but the shorter jumped up, and whipped some blood from his hairline.  
"Fine, grabbing you isn't going to work. Whats your problem? And how'd you know we''re hunters?"  
"The style of dress, and your stance. You hunt for a living. Not sure if it's deer or bear though. And my PROBLEM," Sherlock sneered, "is that my friend just disappeared with this 'ghost' you could put it named John Winchester. So leave. Me. ALONE."  
"Did you say John Winchester?" The man standing looked hover to the man on the ground who was slowly standing up. "We might be able to help."  
"How?" Sherlock asked sharply.  
"You see, my name is Dean Winchester." Dean said, "that man you threw on the ground was Sam Winchester."  
"So you two..." Sherlock tilted his head.  
"No." Sam said surely as he got his feet. "Brothers. That man that disappeared was our father."  
Sherlock narrowed his eyes. "You do realize you just said was. I believe the correct term would be is."  
"No." Dean shook his head, "was. He's dead. You have keen eyes. He's a ghost. But why he took your friend- that's as much of a mystery to us as it is to you." Dean pocketed his knife as Sherlock turned to face them. "You''re right, we are hunters. But not of animals like deer and stuff, we hunt the supernatural."  
"Brilliant." Sherlock mumbled, "more nut jobs."  
Before Dean had the chance to pounce Sherlock, Sam stepped in between the two. "What's your name?"  
"Sherlock Holmes." Deans eyes widened.  
"Son of a bitch! " Dean cried, "you're that detective that died! Jumped off a building!"  
"I didn't die!" Sherlock yelled, "as you can clearly see, I simply faked my death. It was all quite easy. Now if you don't mind, I need to find my friend." He sniffed John jacket once more, and sighed. He tried to think of what to do next. It wasn't until Dean put a hand on Sherlock shoulder did He put his guard back up.  
"If you need our help, this sort of stuff is out specialty." Dean said.  
"I don't need YOUR help." Sherlock pushed away from Dean. "All I need is a place to stay so I can think. Maybe a change of clothes."  
Sherlock started to walk away, but Sam called, "you can come to our HQ. We have a few rooms open. Plus, I'm sure Dean wouldn't mind sparing a few clothes. Would he?"  
Dean scoffed, "of course I'd mind!" Sam gave him a look, "but I'll be willing to part with one pair."  
Sherlock stopped, his shoulders slumped, "I guess one night wouldn't matter." He sighed, and turned to the Winchesters. "I'll take you up on your deal."  
"Wonderful." Dean said, "and while we are on the road, you can tell us all about how you survived the fall. It would be a shame to hunt down such a brilliant mind." He winked, and walked to a '67 black impala.  
"You drive in that thing?" Sherlock eyes widened, "its so old."  
"Oh baby, he didn't mean that." Dean said in a lovingly tone, and patted the car.  
"Don't insult the car." Sam said, and patted Sherlock hard on the back, throwing him off balance.  
Sherlock gave a confused look, but followed the two to the car.

* * *

It was a good half hour before Dean said, "how do you feel about music, Holmes?"  
"I prefer Bach, but some-" Kansas's 'Dust in the Wind' started to play, and Sherlock rolled his eyes. "What rubbish."  
"So Cas, have you got anything?" Sam asked the back seat, and Sherlock tilted his head, confused.  
"Um,I'm sorry, I don't quite understand." He looked out the window, but a man blocked his view that was certainly not there seconds before. "What the f-"  
"Dean. Sam." The man said.  
"Hey Cas." Dean said above the music. "Got anything for us?"  
"Another dead end. I found a dead man sprawled on the end of road, then I came here. Seems your father is getting around." Cas turned to look at Sherlock, "hello Sherlock Holmes."  
"You-you know this son of bitch? " Dean asked Cas.  
"I'm surprised you've kept him this long." Cas put his hand on Sherlock's head.  
Sherlock tried to push the man's hand away, but Cas held on too tight. "Get off me!" He cried.  
"Cas!" Sam demanded, "what the he'll do you think you''re doing?!"  
"Can't you see, he's a demon." Cas said, and closed his eyes.  
"Cas, get your hand off of him now." Dean said in a dangerously calm voice. After a moment, Cas took his hand off of Sherlock, and Sherlock pushed himself to the corner of the car.  
"You are all crazy." Dean slammed on the break, throwing Sherlock forward.  
"Start talking demon." He swung himself around. "Why'd you con us?"  
Sherlock narrowed his eyes. "I don't have any clue what you are talking about. I see you aren't helping me, so I'm going to find my friend myself. Good bye Dean and Sam Winchester." He started to get out,but cas kept the door lock, not letting Sherlock out.  
Sherlock finally broke. Too much shock on the man put too much strain on him. "LET ME OUT SO HELP ME GOD!" He started to attack, but with one touch from Cas he was out.


	2. Chapter 2

When Sherlock came back around, he was tied to a chair, a Pentagram drawn above him. He knew better than to struggle, and all he could think about was John, and getting him back.  
"So sleeping beauty awakens." Dean sneered, and Sherlock raised his head.  
"I'll give you anything you want, Winchesters, all I want is my friend back." He said surely. "I know how it goes."  
"Do you now?" Dean asked, and then punched Sherlock in the face. Sherlock face was thrown to the side, and he tasted blood in his mouth.  
"Ow." Sherlock said, and looked back up at his captor. "Oh yrs, I forgot, usually the captor tortures the victim. What do you want?"  
"What I want, is your ass back in Hell. " Dean said. "If you want, I can make Cas burned you out of this poor man."  
"What poor man?" Sherlock cried, "I'm me! Sherlock BLOODY Holmes! Greatest consulting detective that's ever lived!"  
"No, you''re a demon who decided to live under radar, and pretend to be Sherlock Holmes. I know a demon like you. Her name is meg. Went under radar, but we found her." He punched Sherlock again in the nose, and heard a crack. Sherlock's eyes started to water, and he bit his lip to hold back the pain.  
"You are crazy." Sherlock said. "And I've met crazy. Do you work for a chap named Moriarty? I mean, I know you are still bitter over his death, but-" Dean punched him again.  
"Drop the damn act, you son of a bitch."  
"WHAT ACT!" Sherlock yelled, tears streaming down his face from the pain, "AND STOP HITTING ME! IT HURTS YOU KNOW!"  
Dean shook his head, and stepped out. Sherlock tried to find something to loosen the ropes, but couldn't find anything.

Sherlock sniffed some blood from his nose, and leaned back, knowing everything was useless. "What do you mean, he hasn't come free of his bonds? It's just ropes!" Sam said as he followed Dean and Cas in.

"I don't know you talk to him Sammy." Dean leaned against a wall, Cas stayed back and Sam walked up to the edge of the Pentagram.  
"Cas, what can you tell me about this demon?" Sam asked.  
"Nothing. I remembered a demon dropping off the face of the planet, and years later, I saw Sherlock and I knew it was him."  
"How old was Sherlock when you found that out?" Sam asked. Sherlock licked his lips, tasting the blood.  
"I'd say 8 maybe 10."  
"Can't we just punch him into submition?" Dean asked.  
"Promise me, I've had worse." Sherlock breath, and Dean walked up to Sherlock.  
"I'd be quiet if I was you." Dean hissed.  
Sherlock rolled his eyes, "were." Dean punched him again, and Sherlock had to open and close his jaw to click it back into place. "Last time I was hit like that, it was by my father." The three turned to look at Sherlock.  
"What?" Sam asked, his jaw set.  
"My dad hit me like this once. Not tied up of course, but frankly, I was too terrified to move off my chair as he hit me. So same thing. Had bruises for weeks. Was made fun of at school." He sighed, "but what does it matter to you?" He slumped, "all you care about is admitting to something that I have no clue about."  
"Dean," Sam said, "I think he's telling the truth."  
"Only one way to find out." Dean pulled a flask from his coat, and Sherlock started to panic.  
"Where's John's coat? Where'd you put it? I need to coat!" He struggled, but couldn't get free. "GIVE ME HIS COAT!" Dean uncapped the flask, and threw the water on Sherlock, drenching his hair. "What was that for?" Sherlock cried, spitting a mixture of water and blood from his mouth.  
"Maybe Cas got it wrong." Dean went and undid Sherlock's bond, "look buddy, I'm so sorry for what happened." He stepped out of the pentagram, and Sherlock went to pounce Dean, but seemed to hit a glass wall.  
"That's not funny." Sherlock growled. "All I want is my friend's COAT, and I'll be out of your way. Now let me OUT!"  
"What the hell?" Dean said as Sherlock threw himself at the glass wall, but fell back. "A Pentagram only contained demons. But I threw holy water on him."  
"GIVE ME MY FRIENDS COAT!" Sherlock yelled, and the three jumped back.  
"Sherlock, calm down. Like seriously bro. Take a few breaths."  
"Then let me out, and give me my friends coat. I wasn't called a sociopath for nothing." Sherlock said, blood pouring from his nose, dripping down his chin.  
"Holmes, look at the mirror." Sam, pointed to the mirror next to Sherlock. He turned to face it. "Yes, it's my face."  
"No, look at your eyes." Sam said, and Sherlock looked again, taking a step back to see his eyes where black orbs.  
"See, it's all a ploy!" Dean said, taking a step forward.  
Sherlock shrank to the ground, curling up in a ball, his eyes turning back to normal. "I-I-I- I can't cope."  
Dean froze, seeing the look on Sherlock's face. He remembered a face like that. It was the face that he made when he lost his brother. It was the face of someone who was hopeless. He stepped forward, right over Sherlock.  
"Dean!" Sam yelled, "be careful! He's gonna kill you."  
Dean didn't care. He leaned down, and patted Sherlock's back. "Here. Lets lead you to the bathroom to clean up. Sorry I punched you I bet Cas could fix up that broken nose."  
"I'm not helping a demon." Cas said, and Dean gave him a sharp look, "but if Dean says so, I guess I could help."  
Dean helped Sherlock up, and brought him o an empty room. "Sleep. Sam, cas, and I are gonna see what the hell is up. I'll get you your friend's coat, and we''ll help you."  
Sherlock could only nod, and curled up in bed, like a child who just lost their mother.

* * *

When Sherlock woke up, his nose was healed, and all the scar and cuts of the past were gone. He sat up in bed, and rubbed his head. He must have had a horrible dream, he about to call out for John when saw some clothes and John's jacket on the to it of the bed. He set up, and put his head in his hands.  
"Morning sunshine." Dean walked in, "I, uh, put some clothes-"  
"I saw." Sherlock said curtly. "Don't you Have any suits, or something?"  
"Yes." Sam said, leaning in the doorway, a plaid shirt on, "but those are for something different. You''ll have to do with jeans and a plaid shirt for now."  
"Fine get out, and I will get changed."  
Sam left and Dean smirked, "see you downstairs." He walked out, and Sherlock took off his clothes, changing into dean's horrible clothes. He examined himself in the mirror with his own coat on, but tossed his after seeing how bad he looked. His eyes wondered to john's coat, and after a moment, he pulled it on, and walked out, his mountain boots unlaced.  
"Is that your friend's coat?" Cas asked as Sherlock sat down, pushing away food.  
"I don't eat." He said, and leaned back in his thinking position , ignoring the three men completely.  
"Wait, he's a demon, but he doesn't believe he's a demon. And cas said that he saw Sherlock when he was 8 and noticed he was a demon. Doesn't the host of the demon stop growing once the demon takes over?" Sam asked, taking a bite of toast.  
"We need to ask Crowley." Cas said, and the two brothers dropped their food in shock.  
"HAVE YOU LOST YOUR MIND CAS?" Dean cried, "we are not putting Sherlock in the hands of Crowley." As soon as Dean finished talking, dean's phone went off, the number reading 666. "Its Crowley."  
"Answer it. Put it on speaker" Sam said, and Dean did as he was told.  
"Hello boys." Crowly said over the phone, and Sherlock leaned forward, hearing another English accent.  
"Whose that?" Sherlock asked.  
"Hear you got another Brit in the room." Crowly said, "I do too. Sadly, he's a little tied up at the moment."  
Sherlock grabbed the phone, "you touch John, and I will kill you." He growled, each word separated.  
"He''ll be okay for now. He will stay Okay as long as you come by and make an exchange. You for this weak mortal John Watson."  
"Where do we meet up?" Sherlock said instantly.  
"Whoa, now let's talk about this-" Dean started, but was silenced by Sherlock's death stare.  
"Woo quick, I like that. Meet up at midnight in front of the winchester's house. Come with no one, not even the Winchesters or Castiel. Tata." The phone line went dead, and Sherlock nodded.  
"Nice to meet you." He said, "had a ton of fun last night. Might do it again sometime." He stood up, but Dean grabbed his arm.  
"No. We are coming with you. You have no say in that. We are going to prepare you to meet Crowly."  
"No. Ill never see John again if you come."  
"And if you go by yourself, John will see you die again. Permanantly. Get it Holmes?" Sam said, and Sherlock stood up.  
"I don't care! My life doesn't matter, but John's does! Don't you get it!"  
Dean slammed his hand on the table. "DAMN IT SHERLOCK! EVER THOUGHT THAT JOHN MIGHT NOT BE THINKING THE SAME THING!" The two men stared at each other for a few seconds before Sherlock stormed out, slamming the door behind him. "That got through to him." Dean said sitting back down. Cas looked down at his pants, then back up at Dean, clearing throat. "Excuse me." With a flutter of wings, he was gone, and Sam suppressed a laugh.  
"So, shall we begin getting ready?" Sam asked.  
Dean nodded, "and once our 5 year old demon is done having a hissy fit, we can get his sorted too."


	3. Chapter 3

That night, Sam and Dean hid in the bushes, and the consulting detective stood in the middle of the road, waiting for the king of Hell and his friend.  
"So you decided to show up after all." Crowly said from behind Sherlock and he turned, taking a step in shock to see John floating a few feet in the air, breathing deeply and slowly, as if struggling to breath. "Love the new outfit." Crowly smirked.  
"Put him down." Sherlock's hands clenched into fists.  
"Gladly." Crowly waved his hand, and John was thrown across the road, hitting a tree, and sliding down, not moving. "Bet your wondering why I asked you to come alone, even though you clearly didn't." He clicked his fingers, and Dean and Sam flew to a tree, their bodies pinned to the bark. "Hello boys."  
"Leave them out of this." Sherlock said. "Its me You want. You have me."  
"Clearly." Crowly scoffed, "must have come as a shock that you were a demon, wasn't it?" He smiled. "Wonder who did that little vanishing memory trick?" Crowley pointed to himself. "Pretty good too. Once you no longer had any clue who you were, I simply shipped you off to a new born named Sherlock Holmes. You grew up a human, but I can see you still pertain some of your demon liveliness. I was hoping the Winchesters killed you. Would have saved me the trouble." Crowly's hand engulfed in flames, and Sherlock stepped forward.  
"Why'd you do this to me?"  
"Because you were being Lucifier's little bitch, and I didn't fancy you becoming the next king of Hell. That was my job."  
There was moaning coming from john's direction, but Sherlock ignored it, hoping Crowly would too. "So you sent me down into a child, and I lived out the life of a human with incredible abilities of observation and deduction." Sherlock put his hands in his pockets, "all because I was a suck up to the original king of Hell himself." He turned to Dean, who was pinned to a tree, "is he always this much of a bastard?"  
"Douche is what he is," Dean hissed through his teeth.  
Sherlock nodded and turned back to Crowly. "Well now, you have me. No one can stop you. What do you plan to do?"  
"Evict you from your homestead." Crowly said, "I think you've taken host to that body too long. Time for you to return home."  
Sherlock smiled, his eyes turning into black orbs, "and let's say I refuse?"  
Crowly pulled a blade from his pants, and twirled it around his fingers, "you wouldn't. You see, if you were younger and more naive, I'd give you the easy or hard way. Seeing that you would never go the easy way, the hard way is the only way to go. I'm sorry Sherlock, but your time is up." Crowly ran at Sherlock, who dodged, and tripped the king of Hell. He leaned over Crowly, getting close to his face.

"You must not have heard the papers. I was supposedly' dead' for 3 years. Do you learn how advanced someone can become in the art of fighting within that time?" He pulled a blade of his own from his belt. It was a normal blade, but it would still do some damage nonetheless."leave, and leave John and I alone. For good, you got that?"  
Crowly nodded, but as he turned over, He grabbed Sherlock's hand, forcing him to stab himself in the stomach.  
Sherlock looked down in the knife in his stomach, and fell to his knees in shock and pain. Blood poured from the wound.  
"Crowly, enough!" Castiel's voice boomed from behind Sherlock.  
Crowly looked over and smiled at Cas, "my work here is done." He smiled, and blinked put of resistance.  
Dean and Sam fell from the trees, and rushed to Sherlock. John rubbed his head, but once he saw Sherlock, his senses sharpened , and he ran by his friend's side. Sherlock looked to john, and gave a weak smile. "Please tell me this is another ploy, please." John grabbed Sherlock, holding him in his arms.  
"No ploys, no gimmicks." Sherlock said weakly, and moaned in pain. "Getting stabbed HURTS."  
"Worse than getting shot, if you ask me." John laughed lightly as tears streamed down his face.  
Dean looked down at Sherlock, "You did good, my friend. I'm sorry for the misunderstanding back in the beginning, but you did good." Dean let a single tear roll down his face, and dropped his head as Sherlock moaned again. Sam could only stand near cas and watch. He had treated Sherlock like crap, and nothing he said could say would make Sherlock forgive him.  
"We should do it again sometime." Sherlock smiled, and spit aside some blood.  
"You got it buddy." Dean said, "anytime you come to America, give us a call. I'd love to have your help."  
"Anytime you come to London,"Sherlock said in a horse whisper, "the address is 221b." He looked over at John. "John, im-I'm scared."  
"Don't be." John held Sherlock close. "We''ll fix you up, and you''ll be fine. But you have to stay awake. Eyes on me."  
"Yes sir." Sherlock trained his eyes on John until they clouded over. As Sherlock drew his last breath, John let his tears flow. Dean put a hand on john's shoulder, signalling to him it was time.  
"Come on, we've gotta get you home."  
John stood up, and wiped away his tears, nodding" any solider knows that any life lost on the battlefield was a life worth lost." Dean gave a weak smile, and the two walked over to Cas and Sam. The four turned their back on Sherlock's body, and were about to leave when a glowing light surrounded Sherlock's body, blinding the four men.  
Once the light disappeared, the four men stood and watched in shock to see what would happen next.  
Sherlock jerked away, gasping for breath. "JOHN!" He yelled, and looked around in panic.  
John pushed past Dean and Sam, falling to his knees at his friend's side. "Sherlock, I'm here. For god's sake , are you okay? Your eyes!"  
In a panic stupor, Sherlock clutched his friend, blinking his eyes to go from black orbs to their normal blue, "John, am, I dead?"  
John hugged his friend, "No. You are alive. Now, can I have my jacket back?" Sherlock smiled.

"So you have no clue what happened." Sherlock was back in his normal 5 layers and scarf. John was wearing a flannel and his jacket Sherlock has protected days before hand.  
"I looked it up." Sam said, "so get this; apparently, when a person is close to death, but has this thing called a guardian angel, it can save them."  
"So you are telling me that I have a guardian angel?" Sherlock asked, leaning against an airport wall.  
"Apparently so." Sam said, "I talked to Cas last night and he told me that people with a special purpose on this Earth have guardian angels. Sherlock does. John does too."  
John furrowed his brow. "I do?"  
Sherlock nodded, as if it made sense. "How else do you think you got out of Afghanistan alive?"  
John nodded. "Alright." He picked up his bag. "We've got to get going. We have a case with a murder and Thor Bridge."  
Dean nodded, and stuck out his hand. "See you around, you son of a bitch."  
After a moment, Sherlock smirked, and shook his hand. "See you soon." Sherlock let go, and looked to John. "Ready? We haven't much time before boarding."  
John nodded, and nodded to the Winchester. "See you." The two British men, turned, walked away, leaving Dean and Sam by themselves.  
"Who would have thought a demon could be good." Dean smiled, but Sam looked worried.  
"I'm not so sure. I mean, there was Ruby. Look how that turned out."  
"Don't be so worried." Dean pat his brother on the chest. "He didn't even know he was a demon in the first place. Now he's some hybrid human demon thing. He''ll be fine."  
"But in danger." Sam said, frowning.  
"Come on." Dean smiled, and turned around, " let's go get some pie. I'm in the mood for some angle cake and blueberry pie."  
Sam chuckled. "Alright Dean."


End file.
